"One person can make a difference, and every person should try."

–John F. Kennedy

This week I was especially touched when I performed before wounded veterans at the VA Hospital in Durham.

There were not quite as many women and men in attendance.   They told me some of the patients just wanted to sleep in, and wished that entertainers would come at night.

I show up around 10:00am, and set up for my little show that begins at 10:30.  That’s not too too early, but heck, I totally understand.  Truth be told, I love love love sleeping in, too!

That’s not even the thing that stuck with me after my visit this time.  Not even close.  This time, for the first time, I really looked in to the eyes– not just the faces– THE EYES — of the veterans in front of me.

The reactions to me and my singing are all over the place.  They are just as varied as the men and women who for a time, must consider the hospital their home.  They are young, old, black, white, able to walk, in wheelchairs, sighted and blind, hazy, lucid.  You get the gist.

I made a point to make direct and sustained eye contact with these American heroes as I sang to them.

Some of what I saw hurt my heart, and some of  what I could see made my heart sing.

I think I could tell the ones who’ve been through pure hell and back and still suffer.

I saw a depth of sadness that I am doubting will ever fully fade.   Some of the men I am fairly certain have seen some stuff a civilian mind can not fathom.  Others clap and smile broadly, clearly loving the music — and my tired jokes.

They are veterans of wars.  Of course they know trauma and darkness.

Here’s the thing:  Knowing this, and actually seeing this in a veteran’s eyes are two different things.

But you know what?  Whatever the hell they’ve been through– they all carry themselves with such honor and strength.  That is also something to see.   It makes me proud of them and our country.   I know am a better person because of what I see.

I can not wait until I return for another chance to honor them for keeping us all free.

I feel truly alive in their presence.

"There is a place for you if you want to step out and leave "comfort city."

–Unknown

Yesterday I had a full out rehearsal with Moment’s Notice for the upcoming gig at the Irregardless Cafe in Raleigh on Saturday night.

It was a time to work out the beginning and endings of the songs– uber important.  It was also a time to get some things straight as to the number of songs I’d be singing and the start and end times for my part in the show.

Let me say first, that I am really looking forward to singing.  There’s a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach because this is the first time in a long time that I did not have full control over what was going on. There are times the musicians will be looking for guidance from me and there will be times when it will be the other way around.

Vocalists who are accustomed to working with musicians work all that out over time, I am sure.  I expect to do more of these little engagements with Moment’s Notice, so the good thing is the knowing, this uncomfortable/nervous energy won’t live there in my gut for long.

So, back to the rehearsal. Scratch that.  I need to go back a little farther.

I received an email from the leader of the band about my joining them— I’d been ask to show up a little later in the night– when the diners turn to dancers.  The tables and chairs are relocated in the small restaurant to allow for the shaking of feathers.

After the email, I begin to think of the songs I’d rehearsed with the band, and responded.  I submitted 3 songs I’d be comfortable singing with the group.  They were:  SMOOTH OPERATOR, BOOGIE OOGIE OOGIE, and DOES ANYBODY REALLY KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS .  I was fine with that– sit in, get in, get out- and call it a night.

Wrong, Wrong, Wrong.

The big thinking here was that I would close out the late show with the band… that I would sing all the songs I had rehearsed in the Fall when we were preparing to perform at a fund-raiser for an organization that works to stop domestic violence.

One of the musicians noticed a strange look on my face when this was all explained to me. He called it slight, but he read it.  I was willing, but not thrilled.

I told them I’d was alright with the rundown… but that I would not sing all night. I would do one set, and then let them finish out.  That comes about 13 songs for your girl… up from 3!  I’m cool. Everybody was good with that.

So, we rehearsed.  After nearly 3 hours we’d run through my songs, and talked them out. Everybody’s on the same page.

The guitar man did catch me, though. That every so subtle change in my eyes and lips. I was caught off balance.

I am still unsettled.  There was no mention of money…  the worth of my time and talent.  I said nothing that day.

It really amazes and disturbs me, that this is a way business is done, or not done in the music world.

Saying nothing yesterday, does not mean I’ll have nothing to say later.